


The Second Game.

by s_alt



Series: Loki wants revenge [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, bruce and tony are fucked, loki is an asshole, where do we go from here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 23:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_alt/pseuds/s_alt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <strong>UPDATE: I completely rewrote the ending of this piece on 07/03/12.  The other ending was a little too insane for me.  So if you're looking for that level of nastiness, it's not here any more.  Sorry.  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Bruce was carefully rolling clothes, packing a tiny bag, small enough to carry over one shoulder, when Tony found him.  Anger rolled off them both, the kind borne of need unrequited, and they stared at each other long.  Loki watched.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tony broke the silence.  “You can’t just fucking leave.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I can,” Bruce replied, and Loki thrilled.  “I have to.  Unless you’re telling me I’m a prisoner?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tony looked stricken.  “No,” he responded automatically, then sought other words as Bruce kept packing.  “But...Bruce, we really need you.  With us.”</em>
</p><p>In which Tony and Bruce have to face a terrible reality</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Second Game.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt fic inspired by [this prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/6565.html?thread=10865829#t10865829) on avengerskink. It strayed from the original, but fell nicely into a series I'm apparently writing. I seem to have three AUs now, with Bruce and Tony.
> 
> Both [devin_chain](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Devin_chain/pseuds/Devin_chain) and [valdemort](http://archiveofourown.org/users/valdemort) were nice enough to beta read - thank you so much.

The second game followed quite naturally from the first. It came to Loki in a fevered rush, causing him to thrust deeper and harder into the enslaved creature he was using, turning grunts to moans to screams. Futile cries for mercy, for Loki was already lost in the dream-space, reaching for what he would need to bring this new play to life.

And a play it would be. Oh, a performance most excellent to behold.

First, to discovery. Loki had left the man alone for many months, long enough for him to have regained some of the footing lost with his partners-in-arms. Natasha had simply overridden all the security protocols, met Bruce in his rooms, listened as he spilled his fears and offered a comforting hand. His dear brother had discovered chess, losing every time to Bruce, using the interaction to connect. Clint taught Bruce to shoot - not well, but decent enough that there was laughter between them. Steve spoke to Bruce, always the same - never mentioning the Other Guy, never flinching. And Tony - oh, Tony was ever present, hovering, needing, watching Bruce like others watch wild animals, waiting for the beast to spring and disappear.

Not trust, perhaps, but a truce, something Loki knew it would be easily overcome. The path he’d wrought still lingered, bright and ready for its master’s return. The seeds Loki had planted needed but fresh attention to spring back to life, and Loki brushed each in turn to remind them of their purpose as he left the now-unconscious form under him, shoving it aside, its service complete.

Empowered now, full, Loki stretched and reached into Bruce’s mind, his lust enlivening the spaces he’d built there, delighting in the great Beast’s hatred, its impotence. Trapped inside Bruce, curling in his depths, so very far away from where Loki was, he could do nothing but hate from deep within, and Loki shuddered in the joy of that understanding.

Bruce pulled away again, into his rooms, as the fevered dreams returned. Tony tried to talk to him, and Thor, and the others, but Bruce would not explain, snapped back at them with an anger that bled his eyes green, made them go silent. Only Tony stayed under those circumstances, glowering back until Bruce returned, and so Loki thought Tony the perfect choice for his test.

All this, Loki did from afar, and could do more - but more was not yet necessary. It would come soon, when the play came to life. He’d always had a particular fondness for performance, and he was certain this one would be masterful.

And so it was, weeks later, that Loki took the form of an ant, crawling through the vents and clinging to the ceiling as the Avengers spoke of him. He listened, watching with barely-contained delight as Bruce twitched, almost imperceptibly, every time someone mentioned Loki’s name. The man was curled inward, hands pressed deep into pockets, shoulders hunched and tense, and Tony was watching him with eyes that shone, hard and bright and seeing. But oh, not enough. Not nearly enough.

Tony’s words drove Bruce to the inevitable end. “If he hasn’t been in the last dozen places we’ve looked, then Loki -” And it was done. Bruce’s face twitched, his hands shot forward, and he shoved, hard, away from the table to stand and stalk out. The game had begun.

Loki knew what would come, and it did. Tony, so strong and willful, did not follow at first, but Loki watched as the worry settled into the man’s eyes, niggled at him until he stopped hearing what the others were saying. At last, he broke from them, Thor in mid-sentence, and followed in Bruce’s wake.

Loki followed as well, knowing his moment was close.

Bruce was carefully rolling clothes, packing a tiny bag, small enough to carry over one shoulder, when Tony found him. Anger rolled off them both, the kind borne of need unrequited, and they stared at each other long. Loki watched.

Tony broke the silence. “You can’t just fucking leave.”

“I can,” Bruce replied, and Loki thrilled. “I have to. Unless you’re telling me I’m a prisoner?”

Tony looked stricken. “No,” he responded automatically, then sought other words as Bruce kept packing. “But...Bruce, we really need you. With us.”

Bruce groaned, zipping up the bag, running a hand through those delicious curls Loki had made use of so very many times. “That’s the thing, Tony,” he replied without looking up. “I’m not with you - _any of you_ \- any more. There’s just...” he paused, working at words. “Too much standing in the way.”

Tony’s gaze went hard, intense. “So talk to us. Tell us what’s going on.”

Bruce shook his head, pursing his lips, licking them a moment. He picked up the bag, and Tony quivered. And oh, it was lovely, and perfect, exactly as Loki had hoped. He watched Tony shiver with the desire to grab Bruce’s arm, force him to stay, and fairly reveled. This would be good.

Bruce went for the door, and Tony followed, eyes wide and sharp and furious and needy. He didn’t let Bruce get on the elevator alone, nor did he say a word to the man as it ticked its way to the ground floor. Then, they were both heading for the doors thoughtlessly, and Loki’s chance was so close...

Tony put out his hand, caught Bruce’s elbow at the outside door. “Bruce...” was all he managed, and that wreck of a man Loki had been tormenting looked up, for only the briefest moment, and caught that gaze.

And then the door was open, and the protections of the tower were breached, and Loki swept in to take them away.

*****

_Don’t do this, Bruce. God, please don’t._

But Tony was still unconscious, and oh, _god_ , he needed it...just for a second. Just for a couple of pure, sweet seconds...

Tony’s eyes fluttered, and Bruce fell back, his rigid cock still in his useless rubbing hand, relief and frustration flooding him in equal amounts. He groaned, wishing Tony had woken up earlier, wishing he was still out, and that moist mouth were still available.

“The Jotun have a serum shared between bedmates,” Loki had told him a few minutes before, smiling, “to ensure that their pairing is productive. It is potent, built for the bodies of giants.” He’d glanced down at Bruce’s member, which had already begun to swell, and Bruce covered himself in shame as Loki licked his lips.

“It courses through you now,” Loki finished, fading already from view, his transparency allowing Bruce to see Tony across the room. Bruce’s skin tightened immediately with need, and Loki laughed to see it.

Tony groaned, and that made it worse, oh so much worse. Bruce’s hand came up on its own and latched onto Tony’s shoulder, squeezing, almost rolling the man over to face him. Almost.

Bruce panted with effort. “Tony...” he managed, his fist wrapped tight around his member, working him, keeping him away from Tony’s face. There wasn’t room for shame in him; the need was too great.

“Bruce?” Tony answered, still turned away, and that made it worse too. God, he was going to fall apart.

“Bruce?” Tony repeated, rolling over now on his own, and Bruce shoved away from him too hard, getting shaky legs under him. Walk away. Walk away.

He’d come twice already, and his cock felt raw, but Bruce was still heady with hunger. His mind was filled with images of Tony - on his knees, taking Bruce in his mouth; on his back, Bruce hammering his ass; on top, riding Bruce’s cock, coming on Bruce’s belly. God, god, he needed it. He _needed_.

He’d never hated Loki as much as he did now.

Bruce could hear Tony sit up across the room. He swallowed hard, turned away, licked his hand once more. His mouth was dry, lips chapped, so he spat what he could into his hand and wrapped it around himself with a groan, just _squeezing_ , holding, knowing he was losing this battle.

Tony was on his feet. He was going to come over. Bruce knew it - fuck, _wanted_ it - and was terrified.

“Ugh,” Tony managed. Bruce’s cock throbbed, and he swallowed a moan of his own. “Bruce, where are -“

“Stop. Don’t.” Bruce’s voice, hoarse and deep, stopped Tony in his tracks. Good - oh, good, good, that the whole team had been trained to listen for that hint of warning. Tony stopped moving, went silent, and Bruce was both thankful and furious for it.

Bruce cleared his throat, didn’t let go, didn’t turn. His hand started working him again absently, and he couldn’t keep the hunger from his voice. “Tony, _god_...Loki. Loki has us.” He moaned, throwing his head back, fighting for control now in more ways than one. “Loki...” Hate fired through him, as primal and raw as his desire, taking Bruce to his knees with the force of it.

Oh, god. The Other Guy...

“ _Fuck_ , Tony...” Bruce managed, on hands and knees now, fists leaving dents in the smooth floor. “I can’t, I can’t...” He pressed his forehead to the cool floor, groaning and heaving, horrified that, even then, his body ached for Tony’s.

A hand was on his shoulder, and Bruce snatched at it without thinking, pulling its owner down on top of him in a tumble. Tony was on him, and oh, _hell_ , how he wanted...

It wasn’t even a thought - Bruce just fisted a hand in Tony’s hair and shoved him down toward his hips.

“Hey, woah!” Tony shouted, getting his hands on the floor and pushing back, holding himself still. Bruce growled deep in his chest, lost now, wanting nothing more than to thrust himself into Tony’s throat. A second hand fisted in that hair and tried to shove him down.

Tony grunted, fighting with effort. “Bruce...what the hell...come on, please!” It was the please that got through; Bruce’s hands let go, arms flying to his sides, and Tony scrambled away on hands and knees.

Bruce moaned and bucked, fighting, panting, coming apart with need and hate. “He drugged me, Tony, _fuck_ \- he drugged me,” Bruce managed through clenched teeth, hips thrusting uselessly in the air, “and I can’t...keep...”

Tony watched, swallowing hard, and Loki, hidden and watchful, saw understanding dawn on the man. Bruce’s body was starting to quiver, to change, and oh, how Loki wanted to ride that body as it did, as the need flooded the Beast and took him over. He could imagine it now, Tony screaming and writhing under heavy hands, torn and bleeding...

But that was not to happen. That was not how this play ended.

“Tell me what you need,” Tony said, words a flood. “Tell me what you need to stay here, like this. Bruce.” Bruce’s eyes, bleeding to green, locked on Tony’s, and that body bucked and twisted toward him, and then oh, yes, the shame came, rising in Bruce’s cheeks, spilling in a single tear that Loki fought not to lick away. The moment was not yet ripe.

Tony understood then, and nodded, and Bruce groaned, a sound both needy and ashamed. He shivered and fought the change as Tony crawled back over to him, murmuring that it was okay, that he’d help, that it would be all right and nothing would change between them. And in many ways, this was better than Loki could have hoped, thrilled to see what it destroyed in Bruce to accept that lie.

Bruce’s trembling hand found Tony’s hair again, and pushed, and this time, Tony barely fought. He opened his mouth readily, eyes closed, and took Bruce in.

Bruce wasn’t gentle, couldn’t be. He shoved himself deep into Tony’s mouth, curling fingers in the man’s hair to lift him and push him down even harder. Tony took it, grunting and moaning around him, and it was good, oh, fuck, so good. He let Tony breathe, fisting his fingers in the man’s hair hard enough to make him wince, and that was even better. Bruce shoved him hungrily back down, thrusting deep into the man’s throat, and came once, right there.

It wasn’t enough.

Bruce growled, and the beast inside him rumbled and turned, wanting to wake. He wanted to let him, but Tony was there, spitting and wiping and grasping at Bruce’s hands, Bruce’s face. “Stay with me,” he said, looking right into Bruce’s eyes. “Come on, stay with me.”

Bruce started to shake his head no, wanting - oh, needing - the release, but then Tony’s hand wrapped around his still-aching cock, and his skin lit with an entirely different hunger.

“That’s it,” Tony cooed, his slick hand moving up and down, eyes fixed on Bruce’s face. “Just stay with me, and we’ll be fine.” Tony shivered a little as Bruce’s hands fumbled with his belt, his trousers, but didn’t stop rubbing, let his pants fall.

The moment was ripe for the picking.

“A star performance,” came Loki’s voice as he stepped out of the shadows. Both men turned, and Loki delighted in the fury he found burning in their eyes. Bruce’s bled green, and Loki shivered hungrily.

Before anything else could happen, before they could even turn toward him, Loki unleashed the magicks he had prepared. Tony’s body was snatched up and pulled away by a thousand invisible vines, swept into one empty corner. The man let out a grunt of pain – for of course, Loki had ensured the vines had _thorns_ – causing Bruce to whip toward him, catch a glimpse of the pinpricks, the blood. Loki drank in Bruce’s fury as it started to spill over, starting that body he knew so well bulging and changing.

“Come now, Bruce,” Loki purred, staring right into those green-white eyes as he licked his lips. He glanced down at Bruce’s still-full member. “Have you forgotten already whom you serve?”

“Loki,” came the automatic response, out of his mouth before he’d even known he was speaking, and the shock of it brought all of Bruce’s thoughts – currently in a tumble toward _HURT KILL SMASH LOKI_ – to a screeching halt. He’d stopped mid-transformation, suddenly unable to unleash the beast. Need still throbbed through him, raw and untamed by Tony’s ministrations, but now different images flooded his mind in a horrifying rush. Loki, standing before him, hungry cock in Bruce’s needy mouth. Loki, before and behind him, thrusting into both holes greedily. Loki taking him into his mouth to hum promises of release, but never deliver. Loki, Loki, oh _sweetfuck_ Loki taking him, spilling into him, making him beg for more, promising the release only Loki, his mind told him now, could finally provide.

Bruce went to his knees, understanding at last as Loki sauntered over to press a boot against his cock, pushing just a little. And that was good, oh the best feeling ever. Bruce’s eyes closed in shame, in desperate need, as his skin prickled with desire.

“Bruce, what are you waiting for, clobber the guy!” Tony was shouting, trying to twist his head around enough to see them both. Loki let the vines loosen enough so he could, ensuring Tony got the complete side view – Bruce on his knees, head turned up to Loki, sweet eyes turned upward, expression on the edge of bliss. Save for those eyes. Oh, in those eyes, the monster curled, hating.

Yes, Loki had chosen the perfect moment. He pressed again with that boot, and Bruce bucked and panted.

“Loki,” Bruce said, hands coming up from where they’d fallen next to him. Bruce reached up, hands finding Loki’s thighs, grabbing on. “Fuck, Loki, I hate you, I fucking _hate_ you.” But his hands held on, and his hips thrust up with need when Loki removed his boot, leaving Bruce whimpering and humping the air.

Tony just stared and stared, eyes going from Loki to Bruce. A torrent of emotions shone in those big, dark eyes, settling finally into a searing hate fixed on Loki. 

And Loki laughed, then, because the show had hardly begun. He stared hate and delight right back at Tony as one hand reached down to grab Bruce’s hair, pulling him sighing and grasping to his knees.

“Beg,” Loki spat, looking right at Tony. But it was Bruce who responded, and Tony’s heart sank.

“Yes, please. _Please_.” Bruce’s fingers fumbled at Loki’s waistband, and Tony clenched his jaw so tight Loki heard teeth hit. 

“Show Tony how to do it right, Bruce,” Loki said, eyes still fixed on Tony. He let Bruce pull him of his trousers, latch onto that hardness with hungry fingers. “Like I taught you.”

Bruce plunged Loki’s cock deep into his mouth, and Tony felt sick.

“Enjoy the show, Tony,” Loki smiled slow, then let himself be lost, curling both hands into Bruce’s curls to force him to take it slow.

Bruce wanted to claw his way out of his own skin, but oh, he had to admit that he _wanted_ this, wanted it with a passion that lifted the hairs all over his body, left him trembling. He wrapped his hands around Loki’s middle and sucked him all the way down, into his throat. He knew the motion, had felt it a hundred times, knew to press his tongue tight to the bottom of the shaft to get just that right groan out of Loki when he pulled back up. He lingered at the head, pressing the tip of his tongue to the frenulum and rolling all the way around it, swallowing the little liquid it coersed out. He wanted more, but he had to have that cock deep in his mouth again, as deep as it could go. He forgot about everything else but the motion, the sucking, the need that threatened to tear him open if he didn’t feed it.

Tony watched in horror, listening to the wet smacking sounds Bruce made when Loki pulled him off his member, made him beg for it again. Every time, Bruce did, and Tony’s hands balled just a little bit tighter as he fought the invisible restraints. He ignored the cuts and punctures, but still couldn’t break free. Loki laughed and purred watching him try.

It didn’t take long - never did with that practiced mouth, those plump, working lips - for Loki to be on the edge. “Ah...” he said, gripping Bruce’s hair harder to make him pause, shuddering a bit at the needy moan that followed. “No no, little monster,” Loki panted, “the show is not yet over.”

Loki shoved at Bruce’s knees with a foot until Bruce turned away from him to face Tony. His eyes looked hungrily back to Loki, though, and Tony thought he might break his hands if he gripped any harder. Loki leaned down over Bruce, pressed him down to sit on back on his heels, and ran his hand slowly down the man’s naked middle, making Bruce shiver, his cock twitch. He reached between Bruce’s legs with one hand and looked right back at Tony as his fingers closed around that member and the man shuddered, gasping pleasure.

“In honor of our audience,” Loki purred in Bruce’s ear, and started stroking. Bruce was slick, still, from his own juices and from Tony’s mouth, and that hand slid with practiced ease. “Please, show your friend how much you want me.”

Bruce put his head back on Loki’s shoulder and moaned that name, and Tony wanted to scream. Bruce was undone in seconds, coming into his own face as Loki held him, wrapped arms around him, cooed what a good man he was, then lifted to thrust deep into that mouth again and be done. Bruce took it, sucked, drank Loki down, and Tony roared wordless hate in Loki’s direction. 

Bruce just smiled stupidly, limp, Loki’s touch the release he needed to purge the serum from his system and give him peace. He hated - oh, how he hated - but something in him felt more whole than in had a long time, and that kept the monster at bay, for now.

Loki released the glamour the moment Bruce collapsed to the ground, still in the tower, in Tony’s chambers. The floor was stained with blood and ejaculate, and the doors were wide open. Already they heard footsteps running through the hall. Still, there was time to appreciate, for a moment, the silence that stretched between Bruce and Tony. The damage, he knew, was not irreparable, but the seeds of doubt and fear had been planted, and Bruce was horrified, torn, unable to reach out for comfort.

“Until next time, dear boy,” he murmured, running a finger across Bruce’s cheek, tasting what he found there, drinking in the lustful hate with which Bruce stared at him now. His eyes flashed in Tony’s direction just once more as he faded, as the others rounded the corner and Tony broke free just a second too late to hide his ruined friend from view.

Loki considered, wondered if this would be revenge enough, truly hopeful it would not be. It was becoming more fun with every turn.


End file.
